A November to be remember.

Faiz Abidin
Nov 1 · 3 min read

The sad part being me; I am 26, now it is november 2019 in which my life still stranded. Tak miliki apa-apa, ngak punya apa-apa malah tiada siapa-siapa.

I would consider 2013–2015 was my golden days of a golden years. As the rain swept of the sand, I would standing still doing what I loved to do, owning stuff and whatnot and just being me. Emotion and self control at that point was superb. I know what I wanted back then.

Hands on the black warm coffee, a wonderful written books on my left hands. At times I would drive and making my own journey most importantly with my very self. Skating around with best buddy. Eating in and out. Photographing the world.

Most amazingly, I am being with a wonderful soul. A family, bestfriends and buddys. Not just sitting around and playing at our cold screen. All of us just roam around, having a trip, meals together, talk to each other in loving sense and mainly; having a life that I truly wanted.

Fast forward today, all I got was a photography work lying around my room and in my drive cloud. A friends that lost; nowhere I could recall or talked to. No more journey and long haul drive. No more night sky to wonders together. Books lying around and untouch, just like my coffee.

A family that, thank God there were super fine to the body and to the very inch soul; but I am the one that broken into pieces. As I am, I don’t want to disturb them to grow older, to grow even boarder.

I was super sad looking myself into a mirror. I’ve lost almost everything that I worked for. The very life I wanted to stay and to the person that I really do my fucking best turns instead they faced off and took another journey.

I am now at the position where every shutter click of a camera like killing myself in and out. I feel that every coffee that turns into myself just like a poison and every page that I turned in my book just like a thosand brick on it; heavy and meaningless.

I’ve lost meaning. I don’t know the very reasons; why.

I admit it was hard to struggle between, what actually the pain I feels inside me, in my head and what I projected towards people around me. I’d consider it is a battle.

I mean, for at least, I am doing my best towards people that I loved. I am holding up my demons and the monsters that giving me a morning whispers and midnight slavery. I will keep on loving them no matter how hard it might get.

But things especially myself got a limit. Heavenly, things will be at my own hands, and I shall be perish, importantly in my own hands in my own way just to clean wipe the pain away. I just waiting for a perfect time. For at least, I am doing something to be remember.

All these years of ‘keep on going’ that I sought to myself and to other people that battling their own war was meaningless I might say. I mean, I am tired.

I am sorry.

Very sorry.

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